Castiel's Drunken Ordeal
by loveandpeace09
Summary: What happens when an Angel of the Lord comes in contact with alcohol, porno mags and an unlimited video card? A very tainted Castiel!
1. Forgotten Angel

**This is my first time writing a fanfic, so I'm don't know how well it went! I'm not sure how often I will be able to write/update, depends on the amount of spare time and inspiration I have. And if anyone likes it lol. Anyway -runs off before I lose the courage to post this-**

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Disclaimer: I own nothing, obviously. Unfortunately. But I can dream :)  
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*****  
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Castiel walked into the video store, nodding to the young girl behind the counter who flashed a friendly smile at him. He raised the video card in his hand as if justifying his reasons for being there and moved cautiously among the aisles of DVD's.

A middle aged man glanced up at Castiel, a guilty expression etched across his face, like a schoolboy caught in wrong-doing. He tried to lower his head and scuttle away from the incriminating movies, but Castiel gripped a firm hand on his shoulder from behind. Turning around sharply, the man frowned, taking in the curious expression on the Angels face. "What?"

"You should not be ashamed," he said simply, turning his head to the left and looking at one of the covers. He paused for a moment to digest the images. "Humans are.... they engage in odd behaviour," he observed, his eyes still locked onto the cover while a light frown creased across his forehead. "Love was not meant to be expressed in such grotesque positions. How they create children in such ways baffles me."

He turned his head back and gazed at the man with such an intense, probing look, that he took a step back from intimidation. "I uh... yeah. Baffling. Odd. Mmm. I'm just... wrong section..." he mumbled feebly. "I have to go," he turned around quickly and hurried out of the aisle, giving an odd glance back at Castiel.

The Angel was unperturbed by the mans behaviour and simply moved to another aisle of movies, leaving the "Busty Asian Beauties" and other similar genre's of film to the Dean Winchester's of the world. Half an hour had already passed and Cas was carrying a large pile of assorted DVD's, half pleased at his progress, half nervous at what he would learn about humanity while watching. Just before he reached the counter, he paused and stared for a moment at the cover of one, depicting a young man and women together on a ship of mammoth proportion, grabbing "Titanic" from its shelf, he added it to his pile.

***

The week had gone by in a flash, Sam and Dean had managed to track and kill the Vampires within three days of arrival and spent the remainder of their time in leisurely fashion at the casino. It wasn't often that they got the chance to make $8,000 in a single nights work. It was only on their drive back did they realise what they had forgotten.

"$8,000 Sammy!" Dean exclaimed, playfully hitting his brother in the chest, his other hand on the wheel of the impala as the drove across a deserted stretch of road. "Always bet on black. What d'you say we take our winnings and hit Vegas? Double or nothin'?"

Sam glanced at his brother and gave a small laugh, shaking his head. "Or we could use the money to save rainforests and feed homeless kittens."

Dean looked as if Sam had suggested they salt and burn the entirety of their winnings. "And what has either ever done for me? No. We're going to Vegas... might find me a... damnit!" he hit the wheel of the car and slammed his foot on the accelerator, increasing their speed down the stretch of road.

Sam, who was not expecting it, spilled a quarter of his drink on his lap. "What?" he asked, half annoyed as he tried to mop up the liquid.

"Castiel," Dean said simply, as recognition dawned upon Sam's face.

"Oh crap," Sam muttered, grabbing the map to see where they were. "We're only a three hour drive away from Bobby's. Look, I know we said we'd be back a couple of days ago, but what's the worst that could have happened? I'm pretty sure an angel is capable of looking after himself, Dean."

Dean didn't respond, his mind was wandering back to the assortment of fake ID, credit and video cards, porno mags and alcohol he had left at Bobby's before he took off in his rush to get on the job. Surely Castiel, Angel of the Lord, being of such purity wouldn't lower to the levels of sinning mortals?


	2. King of the World

Dawn had just begun to break through the gloom that lay resting over South Dakota. The distant roar of an oncoming car was all that broke the otherwise deafening silence. The roar grew increasingly louder as the shiny black impala pulled into Singer Salvage Yard. Turning off the engine, the boys could now hear a familiar voice pleading not too far away.

"Why don't you just climb down here, son? I've got rum, whiskey... freakin' 'Sex on the beach' if that's what you're into," Bobby offered, adjusting the cap on his head to get a better look at the top of his roof. The boys hurried closer, both exchanging a curious look with one another before finally seeing who it was Bobby was speaking to.

Standing tall on the roof of Bobby's house, with a half empty bottle of liquor in one hand and a toothy grin spread across his face, Castiel began chuckling loudly to himself. The fact that an angel was drinking alcohol on the roof of a house was not the only reason Sam and Dean stood staring up at him, dumbfounded. Castiel had extended his huge pair of magnificent white/gray wings from his back. Raising his index finger, he slowly shook it at Bobby.

"Nooo, Bobby... no," he slurred, shaking his head. "I can fly," he said simply. "I'm an angel... no! I'm... ," he paused for a moment, a look of wonder and excitement dawning on his face, remembering back to the previous nights viewing of "Titanic". "I'm the King of the World! Woohoohoo!" he raised his arms wide and threw his head back, yelling at the top of his lungs.

Slowly turning their heads, Dean was met with the unusually stern looks of Sam and Bobby. "What in the **hell** have you done, boy!?" Bobby raised his voice over the loud yells of the angel.

Frowning under their gazes, Dean shifted his feet uncomfortably. "I haven't done anything!" he said defensively, though neither of their expressions changed. Dean glanced back at Castiel, who was now beginning a low chorus of "My Heart Will Go On", relenting, he said "Well... I might have left a few of my... personal belongings behind before we left."

Sam looked at him in exasperation. "C'mon, how was I to know he was going to get drunk and start serenading with-"

"And my heart will go on and ONNNNNNNNNNN," Castiel's voice raised higher and higher, growing more out of tune by the second.

"Gay pop music," Dean screwed up his face.

"It's not gay," Sam interrupted. "It was number one all around the world and became one of the best selling singles of all time...."

Dean looked at him disbelievingly. "And you give up watching the porn network to listen to that crap?"

"Would you two quit it already!" Bobby's snarl sounded through the morning as Castiel finished his tune. "'Coz of Dean's stupidity, we now have a drunken Angel on our hands who's probably got more power in his left foot than the two of you have in combined brain cells. What are we gonna do when he starts using that?"

"Hey, you think he'd have to juice to pull something like the Trickster? I'm thinking a mosh pit, naked women, some burritos... mud wrestling..." he trailed off, a dreamy smile on his face as he contemplated the ideas. "I could encourage hi-"

"Dean!" this time it was Sam who yelled at him. "Get your mind out of the gutter. We need to think of a plan. It's bad enough when you're under the influence of alcohol, let alone someone who could turn probably turn a town to ash with the snap of his fingers. We just need to get him inside."

"Hey boys!" Castiel's voiced slurred down at them. "D'you... Do you... you who? Me? " he began laughing to himself, before taking another long swig from the bottle. "Do you want to see me fly?" he took their shaking heads and pleas of 'no' to mean an enthusiastic 'yes'. Smiling a little lop-sided, he threw the bottle of whiskey, watching as it smashed to the ground and spread his arms and wings further out. With one small leap, he bound off the roof and began falling through the air.

A second passed. Dean and Bobby cringed. Sam gasped. Castiel swore loudly.

Unfortunately, drunkenness had only made his aim and coordination fail him miserably. He had jumped directly in line of a sturdy tree a few feet below the second story roof. His beautiful wings, now tangled and embedded with leaves and twigs, were flapping feebly in attempts to free himself.

"This is a disaster zone," Bobby muttered, standing back with his arms crossed, not even bothering to run forward and help.

Sam and Dean both exchanged anxious looks before making their way toward the tree. "Hey... Cas," Sam tried to calm him over the loud swear words erupting from the angels lips. Turning his head sideways, Sam looked at Dean accusingly. "Dude, how did he even learn words like that?"

Dean, who was now trying desperately not to crack a laugh at the things Castiel was saying, said "Asian Delights... or-" Hearing a particularly crude phrase, Dean nodded matter-of-factly. "That's a classic from Lady Jasmine's Whipping the Divine… that kinky mother... I didn't leave those dvds here."

"Egh," Sam shook his head at his brother and looked back up at Castiel. "You've tainted an angel, Dean. I hope you can live with yourself after this," he muttered as they both tried half-climbing the tree and untangle the large wings. Still struggling, Castiel began whacking the boys over the head with not only his wings, but his free hand that wasn't clinging onto a tree branch.

"What..." Dean dodged a rather forceful blow and nearly lost his gripping. "What the hell are you doing?"

"STOP touching..." Cas swore to himself again as Sam accidentally pushed his shoe onto the end of his wing. "My wings! You psychopathic... you're a... a....a mud monkey." He stopped struggling and began giggling, letting go of his safety branch in the process and fell to the ground in earnest, having the boys successfully untangled his wings.

_thud.  
_  
"Owwwwww!" Castiel let out a whining groan as his back lay flat on the hard earth, his wings bent at all angles beneath him. "You f... me... dropped. You threw me off... out the tree!" he yelled, watching the boys climb down the tree, his eyes slightly unfocused. Cas tried struggling to his feet, while Bobby bent down, muttering inaudible words under his breath and pulled the angel to his feet.

"We're getting you inside and you're gonna sleep this out." He gripped Castiel's arm firmly, as Sam gripped his other arm and Dean followed them toward the house, rubbing his head from the repeated hits Castiel had dealt.

"She was a fast machine. She kept her motor clean. She was the best damn woman I had ever seen..." The same out of tune voice began singing in their ears, louder than before, oblivious to the cuts he now had over his arms and face from the fall. "On a bed of roses... lay you down.... Holy Ghost.. Sleep tonight" he droned on. "Back in black!" He ended on a high note, as they entered the kitchen and set him down before one of the tables.

"What, now we just wait until it gets out of his system?" Sam questioned, eyeing the angel who now had his face pressed so close against the table, his nose had squished up.

"I see God," Castiel mumbled, tracing pictures unseen by any of the others across the lightly patterned tabletop. "Cap'n Jack Sparrow... Ah-hoy!" he yelled out, lifting his head a little as he slashed an invisible pirate sword through the air.

"He's like a seven year old," Dean watched him, amused, wondering silently to himself if it would be such a bad idea to let him have a little more alcohol. Let the man loosen up and have a little fun, Dean sure thought they needed more fun in their lives.

"Pretty much," Bobby sighed in response to Sam, moving to the fridge to get them all a non-alcoholic drink. "Dunno how long it'll take though. He's an angel, he might be in a human meatsuit, but he's got a different energy. Alcohol could affect him differently," he shrugged, handing Sam and Dean a bottle and taking a swig of his own. "Mind you, we're in for a long day if that's the case."

All three men exchanged looks of wonder and, for the most part, exasperation. Except for Dean, who was quite amused by the whole situation.

"Sam… Mas... S-A-M," Castiel began sounding out each letter. "M-A-S .... A-S-S... ass," he chuckled to himself again, tracing another invisible picture. "I see you Sam," he pointed a little in front of him on the table, shooting a glance up toward Sam. "Demonic son of a bitch," he sniggered, jumping to his feet and dashing to the next room to cause a little mayhem.


End file.
